


Sincerely, Skywalker

by reys_island



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: AU, Ben is being an asshole, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Mutual Pining, Rey is Trying her Best, Slow Burn, The Space Kardashians, What is real and what is reality tv, flangst, the gang's all here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-04-27 11:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14424885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reys_island/pseuds/reys_island
Summary: Tired of writing crummy loglines and sending tv pilot treatments to God Knows Where, Rey is ready to get out of the mailroom of Jakku Agencies. When she runs into a frazzled writer on the street and nearly saves his job, her wish is granted as she lands a job as the line producer of the most coveted reality television show,Sincerely, Skywalker.Really, someone should have warned Rey about working for reality television- or the Skywalker family, for that matter.





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends and fandom! I hadn't began writing for Star Wars before but after seeing [this post](https://katarainspace.tumblr.com/post/171208207373/reyloday-reality-tv-show-au-where-keeping-up-with), I could not resist. And now we have a slow burn crackfic AU on our hands. Much thanks to fettuccine-alfreylo for being my confidante and cheerleader through all of this- go follow her amazing stories on AO3 and her tumblr!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is a TEASER, not a prologue anymore. This is kind of like a deleted scene between chapters 2 and 3 that has necessary info in it. This scene is set in 2017, while chapter one is set in 2016. Sorry for the confusion!

2017

Ben Solo is not happy. 

But that wasn’t news. He is doing his best to get some final paperwork done before he heads to the gym, but the constant buzz outside of his office is making him want to rip all the files to shreds. Giggling about their weekends, phones going off even though there’s a strict no-ringer policy in the studio, and the ever-present, mindless, absolutely moronic _chatter_ that he just. Can’t. Stand. 

Ben abruptly stands up from his desk, the backs of his thighs pushing the office chair into the bookshelf behind him rather loudly. He strides to the doorway and waits, making his looming presence known with hardly a sound. As employees start noticing, they go quiet and freeze, shushing their friends and staring wide-eyed at their boss.

He clenches his fists, “Don’t any of you have work to do?” Ben says with a quiet intensity he’s mastered over the years. 

There’s a few beats where the office stands completely still before Ben moves back into his office, shutting the door behind him- he still manages to hear some snot-nosed intern mutter to his friend, “Fuckin’ Mondays, man...”. Ben stops, counts to ten, tries to breathe, and keeps moving to his desk, knowing that if he tries and confront the man- no, boy- he’ll probably strangle him without blinking. 

Before he can catch a break, the head writer and artistic director of the First Order’s most popular TV drama _Empires_ walk into Ben’s office right as he sits down, “Wow. Some weird vibes out there,” the blonde one greets. 

“Ren, I just don’t know how you manage to instill so much…” the ginger one searches for the word, “ _fear_ into people with hardly a sound.”

“Yes, well, Hux, maybe if you quit running your mouth every second, people would respect what comes out of it more,” Ben shoots back with hardly a glance at the two. “Phasma, pleasure. Thanks, both of you, for coming in on short notice. Sit.” 

Phasma does as she’s told and Hux only has the energy to give a half-hearted scoff at the insult he’s been dealt before following the director’s lead. 

Ben leans back in his chair before lacing his hands behind his head, “Snoke had me come up to his office earlier. Said he watched the tapes for episodes 6-8. He wants them redone,” Ben says with a clipped tone. 

Hux’s jaw drops, “Redone? What do you mean _redone_?”

“Apparently the executive board doesn’t like the whole dynamic between the AI and the detective. Says it’s tacky,” Ben replies, the ghost of a taunting smirk flicking across his face. 

“Tacky!” Hux exclaims. He puts his hands on his knees and leans forward, “The exploration of the relationship between droids and humans is brilliant! It’s relevant, it has us question our morality, whether or not our emotional capacity is truly what makes humanity so unique, it completely transcends-”

Ben cuts him off, “-It’s starting to seem like a creepy sex thing, Hux. The tension between the two is getting weird. Everyone on set agrees, which, if you ever showed up, you would see it too.”

Hux stutters, “But, redo three episodes?! That’s unheard of! That’s- that’s, I mean, who-”

“-Were my costume sketches for the droid too risque?” Phasma, who had been silent through the conversation quietly, almost ruefully cuts in. 

“No, it’s not your fault, Gwen. I called you in here because this show has been yours and Hux’s baby for nearly six years now. Look, I don’t want to redo episodes either. It takes up way too much time and money. But editing can only go so far…” Ben sighs and leans forward over his desk, head in his hands while he massages his temples, “Frankly, our budget isn’t what it used to be. Audiences are getting tired of _Empires_. It’s like you can’t hold anyone’s attention for longer than twenty minutes anymore… and God forbid if those twenty minutes aren’t loaded with a fuck ton of plot!” Ben gets so worked up he slams a hand on the desk, making a mug full of red pens shake and Hux and Phasma jump in their seats. 

“Okay, alright,” begins Phasma, ever the calming influence, “so we edit out the weird sex robot scenes, and see what we need to fill the time and film that. I’ll start storyboarding, Hux- lock yourself in a room and just… write. Write something better without robots. Ren, you’re the boss: you get to tell the line producers to make a last-minute shooting schedule.” 

Ben groans into his hands, “They’re gonna shit bricks, Phas.”

“That’s why I’m making you do it. I’ll see you later. If you need me, I’ll be chugging coffees in the drawing room until Wednesday, it sounds like.” Phasma smiles, already exhausted for the work she’s going to have to put in for the next few days. She takes Hux’s wrist and drags him out with her, knowing he’s too stunned by this turn of events to properly process the fact that he’s going to have to come up with a whole new storyline for one of the biggest shows in the network within the week so the actors could at least have some kind of chance of memorizing lines before shooting day. 

Ben watches the two leave, thankful when the door closes and he is surrounded by silence once more. He catches a glimpse of himself in the black reflection of his computer screen- the bags under his eyes are beginning to be a permanent fixture, the constant downturn of his lips is creating lines at the corners of his mouth that he hoped would never come. Running a hand through his hair, he leans forward and thinks he might spot a gray hair or two peeking through his jet-black locks he had been famous for since he was four years old. He looks at his ears, something he always couldn’t stand, now soothed with words spoken to him over the weekend- 

_“I always thought your ears were rather cute.”_

Overwhelmed, he pushes himself away from the desk. He paces the office for a minute, ruminating over the events that had progressed earlier that morning. 

_He had walked into Snoke’s office on the top floor tentatively, keeping his back straight and his chin down._

_“Ah, Kylo Ren. You decided to come into work today. Thank you for taking time out of your busy, mundane life to meet with your superior. Truly, a great honor,” The old, frail man still commanded the room as well as he did years ago when starting the company, his arms perched casually on the arms of his office chair, pressed suit impeccably fitted, donning expensive cufflinks and perfectly shined loafers._

_“Apologies, Mr. Snoke. I was met with some last-minute issues in the editing studio down in-” Snoke cuts him off._

_“-Don’t bother me with your petty excuses. It’s a weakness. And it does not help that you were unable to do any work this past weekend getting cozy at some vapid crewmember party. If I wasn’t so… intrigued by your creative mind, I wouldn’t bother.” Snoke purred._

_Ben gulped. The way Snoke rolled his tongue around the word “intrigued” made chills run down his spine and caused a pit to form in his stomach. It was the same tone of voice that once soothed him as an isolated 15 year old when he mistook it for fatherly, however now he realized the tone for what it really was, and just the thought of it made Ben want to retch, “What do you need from me, Mr. Snoke?”_

_“Ah, it is not a question of what I need, but what I want, Ren. I_ need _your absolute trust and devotion to this production company, and to me. But I already have that. What I want from you requires your fame. Not as Kylo Ren, but as Ben Solo,” He spits the latter name out._

_“How exactly, sir?” Ben furrowed his brows. Snoke was the one who insisted Ben change his name when he began working at First Order in order to completely separate his adult work from his unfortunate upbringing in a reality television setting. Just the fact that Snoke was acknowledging the name was enough to throw Ben off._

_“It seems our ratings are dropping at an exponential rate. We seem to be… losing out in our time slot. We’ve nearly dropped to third during prime time. Unacceptable. Even worse, it seems Resistance Studios is rising in popularity with their petty reality shows and subpar dramas on the other network.”_

_Ben quietly watches Snoke, unsure of where he is going with this._

_“I need someone keeping an eye out for any foul play, and you are our way in. This ridiculous ‘Time’s Up’ movement is perfect- find some executive leering at one of the interns for too long, a costume designer with lingering hands, whatever it is. It needs to be convincing enough for audiences to stop supporting them._

_“Get back in the Resistance Studio’s good graces. Make them think you’re willing to work for them once again. The bait will be too good to resist. We don’t need to be raising suspicions among the higher-ups there, so this must be done quietly, Ren. Your monthly weekend trip that your incessant mother insists on will be perfect to put this plan in action. Get First Order back on top.”_

_“Yes, sir. You won’t be disappointed,”Ben responds after a few moments of stunned silence._

_“Good, my boy. Now go back to work. Oh, and tell Hux the executive board is beginning to absolutely detest his plot lines. The last three episodes you’ve sent us need to be replaced.”_

_Ben blinked, surprised, but too distraught to contest, “Of course,” he turned around and made his way out of the office._

Ben quit pacing. He needed to think. He _really_ needed to punch something, but frankly didn’t want to receive another “stern” talking-to from the spineless HR guy. A punching bag would have to do. He runs a hand through his hair before grabbing his bag, figuring he’ll just head to the gym early and blow off steam. He walks out of his office, avoiding everyone’s eyes. He only slows when he hears a familiar name on the television blaring above the secretary’s desk.

“...Old teenage heartthrob Ben Solo spotted leaving the airport yesterday looking sickly! Speculations of his health are running wild, here on _Entertainment Now_!!”

Ben growls before turning to the nearest wall and promptly putting his fist through it with all his strength. The entire office goes dead silent, the only noise being a disturbingly loud commercial on the television. The elevator dings to signal it’s arrival, and Ben steps in without another word, leaving the office with a throbbing hand and a pissed off attitude. 


	2. Not With a Fizzle, but With a Bang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Thanks for such a positive response to a meager teaser! Here's a long first chapter in thanks :). Remember! This chapter now takes place a YEAR BEFORE the teaser in 2016.

2016

NEXT ON _**ENTERTAINMENT NOW**_ : Jessika Pava has a new beau on her arm and he is scrumptious enough to EAT! Amilyn Holdo tries cool blue tones in her luscious locks… with extensions??!!??? Then, an inside look at the on-again-off-again couple Han Solo and Leia Organa- is the divorce for real this time??? And speaking of Skywalkers, will Luke ever return to _Sincerely, Skywalker_ after his mysterious disappearance at the end of last season? And who in the world is our boy-wonder-turned-wild-child Ben Solo getting cozy with now? Stick around for all the answers, only on _Entertainment Now_!!

The television in the upper corner of the mailroom is absolutely blaring, and Rey can hardly think. The bright colors and constant movement on the screen are the only sources of energy in the room, the fluorescent lights and endless rows of white cubbies with various envelopes and folders sticking out of them making the entire room bleak. It was a Saturday, meaning she was alone in the office, and that there was absolutely no ‘hustle and bustle’ apparent in the building. She was currently half-reading fanmail that had been sent to a now-obscure actor that was once the star of a comedy sitcom, her feet propped up on the desk and reading glasses perched precariously at the bottom of her nose. 

Jakku Agencies was one of the oldest still left standing in New York, albeit by a thread. The mailroom, while not sounding glamorous, had once been a thriving place to work where lots of no-names could get their start, learning the ins and outs of the business. Now it was more like a junkyard, full of scripts for eighties sitcom reboots and documentaries that would get picked up by the local broadcasting service if the writers were lucky. It wasn’t Rey’s dream job by any means, but there really wasn’t much to do with a bachelor’s degree in Media, even if that degree was from NYU. 

In the back of her head, Rey knew she was wasting her talents. She was a master with a camera, an artist when it came to editing, and had the work ethic of a beaver. She had put some of her short films on Vimeo and Youtube, hoping to get discovered, but of course, that was fruitless. She was too busy working to pay her school debt to ever truly network or intern during her college years, and was now stuck in a minimum-wage job, supposedly “paying her dues.” It wasn’t a great life, but she was paying rent and finding small photography commissions here and there to help fund her ramen noodles collection. 

It was nearing 2 o’clock by the time Rey had looked up from the stack of junk she was sorting through. It was probably time to call it quits, as all the ink on the papers she was holding was beginning to blur in front of her. She recycled the fanmail, set aside crucial receipts, and collected her old backpack on the chair beside her before turning off the lights and locking the door behind her. 

On her way out the doors, she passes her unfortunate boss Unkar Plutt. 

“What are you still doing here, girl?” He asks, crossing his meaty arms. 

“I always take the Saturday shift,” she tries, carefully hiding how much her teeth were gritted. It was hard for her to hide the disdain she felt towards her boss. 

“I’m lowering your hourly pay on Saturdays, then. The agency can’t afford you traipsing around here on the weekends.” He grunts out, walking in the direction of his own office. 

“But,” Rey starts, “You already pay me minimum wage! Any lower and you’re violating labor laws!”

“See if I care. If you’re so worried about the minimum wage laws, maybe you can look for a job somewhere else, Niima,” Plutt threatens. 

That shuts Rey right up, “Sorry. I didn’t- I’ll keep my job.” 

“‘Atta girl,” Plutt goads. 

Rey leaves the office building steaming at the ears. Plutt never failed to put her in the positively worst kind of funk. She was on autopilot as she made her way to the subway station back to her tiny apartment in Brooklyn with her less-than-normal roommate, which explains how she completely misses the biker in front of her yelling, “Watch out!”- 

She finds herself on the ground, her already-old bag catching some gear on the bike and splitting one pocket, papers flying out onto the sidewalk. She definitely scraped her hands on the way down, and her ass is throbbing. Hearing a groan to her left, she sees the biker cradling his knee. 

His eyes are covered by square-framed sunglasses, half his face underneath a baseball cap. The guy is… _big_ , is all she can think. His dark skin makes his complexion nearly glisten in the afternoon sunlight, his hands covering half his calf as he inspects the damage. He doesn’t seem particularly tall, but he is wide with muscle. The guy could probably kick her ass if he was that angry and if she was unlucky enough. 

Standing up and brushing herself off, she offers the man her hand, “Sorry about that…” she says hesitantly. 

The man looks up at her and freezes. He takes her hand and gingerly stands up, taking his sunglasses off to greet her properly, “It’s fine, no problem… I mean, are you okay?! Sorry, I was distracted, I didn’t see you until the last minute-”

“-No I’m fine! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention-”

“-No really please, let me help you with your-” the man points to her papers. 

“Oh, I can get them-” the two bend down at the same time and bump heads. 

“Ouch!”

“Jeez!”

They rub their heads in unison, cringing at one another before breaking into laughter at each other’s misfortunes. 

“I’m Rey,” she offers as an apology.

“Finn,” the man replies with a warm smile, “Finn Trooper. I really am sorry for running you down like that with my bike. Is there anything I can do…?” 

“It’s just a few scrapes, no worries. I’ve been needing a new backpack anyway…” she trails off as she longingly looks at the faded threads and zippers she called a backpack appearing especially sad in a heap on the sidewalk. 

“Well, that won’t do,” Finn teasingly scolds, “I’ll buy you a new bag myself, and maybe… a late lunch, if you’re up to it? I mean, I’m not coming on to you or anything…”

“That’s too bad,” Rey flirts back as she picks up her papers and what’s left of her bag before standing straight up again, “No, yes, that sounds lovely. I’ll take the free meal, but really, you don’t have to buy me a backpack.”

“Nonsense, I insist! I just got my tax refund and I am ready to spend the whole ninety dollars in my possession, Miss Rey…”

“Niima,” Rey helpfully provides with a giggle.

“Miss Rey Niima. Someone that can get run over by a bike and have their backpack ripped to shreds in one go and still allow the buffoon to take her to lunch more than deserves a backpack to carry all her important…” Finn looks down and sees nothing but badly formatted transcripts and tacky headshots, “...mailroom files. What studio or agency would allow someone as pretty as you being stuck in the mailroom basement?”

Rey puts on a grave face, “Jakku Agencies, that’s who.”

Finn physically recoils, “Oof. Say no more. I’d offer to buy you a drink even if I didn’t run you over.”

Rey laughs, enjoying their mutual understanding of the business, “We’ll make it two drinks, then.” 

Finn’s face breaks out into a wide grin that lights up the entire block, “Excellent. Let’s take a cab, I know this great place in Chelsea…” Finn looks at his watch before his eyes nearly bug out of his skull, “Shit. I forgot why I was so frazzled in the first place. I have to be at the Skywalker Residence, like, ten minutes ago…” Finn scrunches his eyebrows, thinking before his head pops up and he smiles down at Rey. He begins to lock up his bike on the nearest lamp post and puts his sunglasses on, “I am going to take a cab down to my job at _Sincerely, Skywalker_ , and you, Rey Niima of Jakku Agencies, are going to sneak in with me.”

Rey begins to shake her head, “Oh no, I… couldn’t…” She begins. 

“Why not?” 

“I- good question,” Rey says, having no real reason for having to go back to her shoebox of an apartment and spending the rest of the night alone. Sure, maybe she should be hesitant about sharing a cab with a stranger, but the guy _did_ seem pretty normal... “Wait, you work for _Sincerely, Skywalker?_ How am I going to sneak in, exactly? Are you seriously leaving your bike here?”

Finn hails a cab, “Look, this is perfect. It’s the calm right before rush hour, we’ll be there in twenty minutes, I’ll hand you a clipboard and everyone will just figure you’re an intern or something. You’re not completely clueless either, they say all the greats of showbiz start in a mailroom! And I live three blocks from here, I’ll get the bike later tonight.”

 _Three blocks,_ Rey thought to herself, _he works for reality television and lives in Midtown? Who is this guy?_

“Am I meeting some hot-shot executive right now?” Rey jokes, but there’s a hint of inquisition in her tone. 

Finn scoffs, “Far from it. I’m a writer on the show this year. Just found out about-” he looks at his watch again, “an hour ago that my treatment was picked up, actually. In the past, I’ve written a lot for shows that never got greenlit. Looks like I’m in the big time, now,” He smiles ruefully as a cab pulls up. 

“No kidding,” Rey trails off, “Are you sure about this? I can just wait here…”

Finn rolls his eyes before opening the cab door for her, “I was not raised to leave a lady alone on the mean streets of New York, Rey. Now come on, you’re about to experience your big break!” Finn teases. 

They both get in the cab and take off North. 

Stuck in airports was definitely not how Ben was planning on spending his weekend. First, there was the delay in LAX- the result of a sudden torrential downpour, nevermind the fact that Ben only moved to the desert for its extremely predictable and often mild weather. A four-hour wait for an already-scheduled red-eye to JFK. He had been hoping the earlier he made it to the city, the sooner he could have his meeting and be back at work. 

He was seated comfortably in a first-class seat when the pilot announced there was an issue with the left-wing, but “oh! It will be fixed within the hour, so we’ll keep everyone seated on the plane, breathing the same air, confined space, be damned!”, or at least that’s how it reached Ben’s ears. 

The plane was not, in fact, fixed in an hour, but rather three. It was officially 4 AM, and a certain man clad in all black was practically steaming in his corner of the plane. Another hour passed before the overly cheerful pilot once again came on to announce the good news that “the left-wing was fixed! So buckle in for a cozy six-hour flight,” and oh, “how fitting we’re flying to NYC, the city that never sleeps, haha!” Ben squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, taking deep breaths until the urge to strangle the pilot faded. 

The flight was quiet for the most part, most people catching up on some much-needed sleep. Ben never could sleep on planes, given the fact that he hardly slept well in a bed as it was. He had pulled out his laptop and tried his best to reply to emails and confirm his schedule for the weekend, but finds his mind wandering. He checks to make sure no one is watching him before opening up a familiar word document. The cursor blinks hopefully underneath the words, “FADE IN- INT. SPACESHIP CORRIDOR.”

Sixty pages in, and he’s finally getting full-swing into the hero’s journey he had established for the protagonist. He had mentioned this project to Snoke a year prior, but the man had dismissed it immediately. Ben was not a _writer._ He had said writers were hard to handle and undeniably unreliable, and that it would distract him from his duties in the studio. Ben had put it to the side since that conversation. Almost. 

When he couldn’t sleep or was struck with such incredible inspiration his hands itched, he would write battle scenes and villainous showdowns. 

Ben quickly becomes immersed in his work, too busy writing about epic space shoot-outs and battles between massive ships, the domineering and merciless nature of the dark side, and the hopeful and resilient nature of the light…

_Darth Vader walks down a narrow hall, flanked by officers clad in white armor. He turns a corner and sees his grandson and protegee, Ren. His mask is off, his face conflicted…_

He furiously types out dialogue between the protagonist and his grandfather. Would Ren take the life-threatening voyage to the Outer Rim? Will the dark inside his soul consume him, would it be so bad if it did? All of the possible paths the story could take fly in front of Ben’s mind and he can barely slow his thoughts down enough to follow any of them. He hardly even notices when the plane lands- he puts his laptop away for the brief landing procedure before bringing it right back up to get more written down before they start letting passengers off the plane. While the rest of the plane complains about the fact that they circle JFK three times before finding an open terminal, Ben is too lost in space to pay attention.

He is only ripped away from the screen when a flight attendant gently taps his shoulder, informing him that he can finally leave the plane. She looks more tired than him, and he can only imagine the hell that was dealing with Coach for that long. He climbs out of his seat and lumbers out, shaking out his legs after such an extended time sitting down. He turns his phone on and makes his way towards the pickup, knowing Leia scheduled some kind of town car. 

He calls Leia’s work phone, knowing it will be picked up by some assistant or producer. Like he predicted, it’s answered by some random on set. 

“This is Ben Solo. I’m confirming my ride to the Skywalker townhouse.”

He looks out the window at the rest of the city- fatigued, dirty, and sore from sitting so long. As the producer or whoever keeps yapping on the phone, Ben grows more and more irritated until he has a death grip on the phone, “It’s not _what_?”

 

Rey and Finn arrive at the Skywalker townhouse a little before 3 in the afternoon. The only word that comes to Rey’s mind as she looks at it is _ornate_. It’s a giant building with three floors, made of a creamy limestone with intricate black cast-iron railings in front of the windows and next to the front door. Beautiful greenery surrounds the entryway, giving the house slightly more privacy. A two-story turret sticks out of the left side of the home, hinting at gorgeous rounded sitting rooms inside. 

The place is packed with moving people- going in and out of the front door, checking boom mics, people loitering around the catering table, two guys on a lift removing a window on the third floor, there must be at least 30 people gathered around one house. 

“What’s with the guys taking out that window?” Rey asks with a furrowed brow. 

“That’s the study. It’s too small to have cameras in- we have to take out the window so anyone in front of the camera isn’t tripping over wires immediately when they walk in.” Finn explains. 

Rey blinks a few times, “Is that even cost-effective?” 

Finn barks out a laugh, “The Skywalkers have absolutely no worries about cost-anything. Plus, it pays off for reality to look… real.” Finn grabs something from a random woman walking past him, “Here,” he shoves a clipboard full of papers with acronyms she doesn’t know written all over them into her arms, “Carry this, and voila! You are officially a part of the _Sincerely, Skywalker_ team. Now let’s go in.” 

Rey is beginning to feel overwhelmed when she sees- no, hears- a strangled groan coming from the inside of the home. A tall man wearing a nice shirt and dress pants storms out of the door Rey and Finn are heading for before yelling behind him, “I quit! Jesus Christ, I’m DONE.” He tears his nametag off rather dramatically before making his way out of the gates guarding the front of the home from the street and veering left. 

Finn watches after the guy before looking at Rey, baffled, “It’s not always… the most forgiving career choice…”

A handsome man not much taller than Rey with a stunning head of curly black hair and a headset hanging haphazardly around his ears comes racing out the front door, “Jeremy, the fuck man!” he yells, but it’s too late. The so-called Jeremy is long gone. 

“Whose PA was that?” Finn asks the man.

He rolls his eyes, “Not a PA. One of the line producers. Third replacement since Season 14 began,” the man gives Finn and Rey a once-over, “I don’t know you- I’m Poe Dameron,” he sticks his hand out. Finn eagerly shakes Poe’s hand and Rey hesitantly puts hers out after. 

“Finn Trooper, I actually got a call from you about one of my storylines being picked up for this next season?”

Poe lights up, “Yes, hi! Oh, am I glad to see you. Come inside, Ms. Organa will want to consult with you, I’m sure. And you are?” He asks, looking at Rey. 

“Oh, I’m-” 

“She’s one of the interns!” Finn cuts in when Rey seems to stutter just a little too long.

Poe scrunches his eyebrows, “I hire all the interns.”

Finn blanches, “Uh, right no sorry, she’s my, um, she’s _my_ intern.”

Poe’s eyes narrow and a ghost of a smirk plays across his lips. There’s a battle of silence between all three of them before Rey clears her throat, “Rey Niima. I’m in the mailroom at Jakku Agencies. Sorry, I just wanted to see all the goings on here… I can just go-” she awkwardly trails off. 

Poe sucks in air through his teeth at the mention of her employer, “No hey, don’t worry about it. Just walk in. If anyone asks, you can tell them the director hired you on.” 

Rey’s eyebrows raise, “And you’re the director?” 

“The one and only,” he responds with a dazzling smile that looks like it belongs in front of the camera, definitely not behind it, “Well, no, that’s a total lie. There’s about four of us. But I’m the prettiest.”

That gets a laugh out of Finn. Poe leads the two into the house where Rey is even more stunned by the beauty and magnificence of the place. White walls and white ceilings with elaborate trim on the edges, large paintings ( no doubt the work of world-renowned artists) donning the wall behind a giant cream sofa. The dark hardwood floors are without a scratch, the thin rugs laying on top of them devoid of any dust or marks. For as many people trekking in and out and all around, the place manages to look unlived in. A large spiral staircase in the middle of the entry room is the focus of the room, tangled with camera and mic cords and full of people racing up and down. A woman with a severe ponytail passes Rey, whisper-yelling into some earpiece. 

“Organized chaos…” she whispers wistfully.

“And hardly organized, at that,” Poe interrupts, “Come on, we’re going to the back rooms where it’s a little less staged. Leia is in the process of getting her makeup done, so we’ll take you to her office and you can wait for her there,” he directs to Finn, “And you, Rey, let me give you a tour.” Poe makes a “follow me” gesture before Rey waves at Finn morosely, already afraid to leave the one person she knows in the house. 

“Don’t worry Rey, I’ll see you on the other side. We still have dinner planned!”

“I thought you said lunch,” Rey asks with playfully narrow eyes. 

“It’s too late in the day for lunch, silly. See you in a few!” He replies, bounding off to a room that an intern that seemed to just appear is leading him to. 

Rey walks behind Poe, trying her utmost to keep up with him but being too distracted by the elaborate design of the home. He led her through more rooms than she could count- salons, crazy-big closets, spare bedrooms, and multiple dining rooms before they eventually get to the kitchen. 

“Et voila, everyone’s favorite film spot. There,” he points to a marble island to Rey’s left, “is where Leia and Han had their iconic coffee fight in season 6, hmmm, over there,” he points to the breakfast nook in the opposite corner, “is where Ben found out his grandfather was the famed golden-era star James Vader in season 3, and this,” he walks over to the glass sliding doors, “is where Luke told Leia he was taking a sabbatical before leaving without a trace at the beginning of season 15... man that was beautiful work,” he adds to himself with a hint of pride. 

Rey looks around, trying to seem as impressed as Poe obviously wanted her to be, “It’s… wow. Lots of, erm, history here,” she tries. 

Poe deadpans, “You’ve never seen the show, have you?”

“I didn’t have cable as a kid!” Rey exclaims in defense. 

“You’ve at least heard of the family, right?” Poe asks warily. 

“Of course! I watched every Anakin Vader film growing up- it’s what got me interested in making movies. I used to watch Han Solo when he competed in the Indy 500. And Luke, wasn’t he nominated for something for directing that one film...?” Rey asks. 

“It was an Academy Award. We don’t talk about it around here, Leia’s still pissed he didn’t win. Oh, and ix-nay on the An Solo-Hay. That whole mess between him and Leia isn’t just for television. Never a good idea to get the executive producer pissed,” Poe says with nervous laughter, “Anyway, we’re actually shooting a conversation between Holdo and Organa in here, why don’t you stick around and watch the magic happen?”

“Sure,” Rey says, feeling more out of place than ever in her dirty trainers and casual jeans. She sits behind where the camera is facing in the corner, and clutches the clipboard close to her chest when she sees a regal, older woman walk in through one of the salons. She has blue hair tied in an elaborate knot behind her head, and Rey has no idea, but the color makes her look more expensive, nearly ethereal, complimenting her flowy gray chiffon top tucked into well-fitted charcoal gray slacks. The blue in her hair is the exact same tone as the blue on her sharp-looking stilettos, and Rey can’t help but feel intimidated. 

As she stares, she hears Poe lean close to her, “Amilyn Holdo, now that’s a woman to be reckoned with,” Rey sees his gaze full of impressed respect when he looks over at her before he calls out her name and moving towards her to grab her attention, “Amilyn, hello! Thanks for being here. Leia is just about to finish up a meeting with-” 

“That’s fine, Poe,” her voice carries over to where Rey is standing, clear and soothing in nature, “You switched out my coffee mug for this take, right? It can’t be pink or gray, that will clash,” she explains with a tone that hints at a command blanketed in politeness.

“Of course, how does a cream tone sound?” 

“Perfect,” she responds with a kind smile, and Rey stares in awe at how composed the woman stays in every situation. Amilyn Holdo was one of the biggest names in Hollywood, and had been for decades, not just one of Leia’s ‘buddies’. As it turned out, her grace and composure wasn’t just for the cameras. 

Poe turns around and quickly catches Rey’s eye before winking. Leia walks in from another door- seeing Amilyn, she smiles the same way one would when greeting an old friend, and makes her way over to give the woman a hug. When Poe is back by Rey’s side, he rolls his eyes, “I don’t know why they don’t allow us to press ‘record’ on the camera before they greet each other. This is so genuine!” he whisper-yells and she awards him a small smile at his antics. 

“I heard that, Dameron,” Leia says, and Rey catches a true glimpse of the woman- she has warm brown eyes and a posture that shows that, although she’s relaxed in her own home, she’s in charge. If she had been intimidated by Amilyn, it was nothing compared to the air of humble superiority Leia seemed to hold over the entire room, “you’ll have plenty of other footage to use. Greetings are personal.” 

“If you didn’t want to get personal on camera, maybe don’t have a reality show…” Poe muttered under his breath.

“One more word out of you and I’m coming over there to smack you upside the head,” she says with a friendly twinkle in her eye. Poe smiles warmly back, and Rey admires the playful relationship between the two. 

“Of course, Ms. Organa.”

Leia goes back to speaking with Amilyn, but not before moving a curious glance to Rey. She could almost see the woman filing away a mental reminder to ask about her later. Suddenly Finn sidles up next to her with a wide grin on his face, “We’re good to go! You, Rey, are looking at the newest writer to join the team on _Sincerely, Skywalker_!” 

Rey smiles before confusion flits across her face, “That’s amazing Finn, but, what exactly do you write if this is reality television?” 

Finn huffs out a laugh, “None of this is real. I basically scrolled through tabloids in past years and took one lead or conflict that probably wasn’t actually a big deal, and twisted it. You’ll see,” He says cryptically before Poe starts calling out directions. 

“Okay! So Amilyn, you’re here to comfort Leia, the voice of reason while Luke is missing. For the promos, we need you to fit in the line ‘Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you see it, you’ll never make it through the night.’ You guys will do great! And, cameras are rolling.” 

The house goes silent, any movement not in the frame gone quiet. The two women drink coffee from their separate mugs, starting casual conversation. Luke is seamlessly brought up into the dialogue. 

“I don’t know, Amilyn. I just… sometimes I wonder what he’s thinking. Where he’s going.”

Holdo puts up a sympathetic face, “I get it, Leia. It’s hard. I guess his mid-life crisis hit him a little later than most,” the two laugh as she tries to lighten the mood. “Seriously. He will come back. We’ll just have to give Luke some time, it looks like.”

Leia forces a sigh from her lips that seems believable enough, “Okay. I’m just losing hope on him. I still want him in this family, he has to know that. We all do.”

Amilyn takes Leia’s hand, “Don’t give up on him… hope is like the sun. If you only believe in-”

Poe cuts her off abruptly, “-wait stop, cut, one second, LUKE. Please listen to see if we’re filming before walking into the kitchen! I’ve asked you to do that like, six times, man,” he says, exasperated. 

The famed Luke Skywalker, the one Amilyn and Leia are having a heart-to-heart about, trots into the kitchen with a long beard and a baseball cap on. Rey’s eyes widen at the turn of events. 

Wait, _what?_

Luke stops right near the sliding doors that he entered from, “Sorry,” he says dramatically, “but it’s Saturday. You know this is when Leia and I have our weekly dinner. Who cares about our family anymore anyway? It’s already fallen apart…” he bitterly trails off. 

Poe sighs and massages the bridge of his nose, “Mr. Skywalker, please, it’s for one more season. Then you’ll have your big reveal and be able to hang out in the kitchen all you want. For now, please just, come behind the camera.” 

Luke rolls his eyes before making his way to stand right next to Rey, glaring at Poe the entire time. Rey keeps her eyes staring straight ahead, trying to ignore the fact that she is standing next to one of the most famous people in the world, _the_ Luke Skywalker, who is currently casually standing with his arms crossed, wearing a t shirt and jeans. 

“Okay, uh, shoot. That was great up until the whole...yeah. Can we try and start at Leia’s bit where you say ‘I wonder what he’s thinking?’” Poe asks. 

“She could just ask me considering I’m right here,” Luke mumbles. A high-pitched giggle escapes Rey, and she quickly covers her mouth when Poe sends glares at the two of them. A grin appears from underneath Luke’s beard and he glances over at Rey. The two share a secret smile. 

“Cameras are rolling,” Poe loudly states to the two standing next to him. 

Amilyn and Leia continue on with their conversation, and after two takes, they wrap up the scene. Coffee mugs are placed in the dishwasher, the extra lights in the room dim before a gaffer takes the equipment into another room. A producer walks up to Poe and speaks in his ear before he shouts, “take a 12!” There’s a sigh of relief and all the employees in the house make their way outside. Poe pulls Finn away to talk further. Luke turns to Rey, giving her a look that she cannot decipher- she sees the similarity between him and his sister clear as day, even in their expressions. 

“You an intern?” he asks gruffly. 

“No, I’m not- I’m nobody,” Rey responds quietly, feeling out-of-body in the current conversation. 

“You must be _some_ body, if you’re here in this house,” Luke tries. 

“A friend of a writer,” 

“A friend, hm?”

“Hardly,” Rey starts, “he ran me over with his bike on the way here.”

“Ah, so this is your collateral.”

“In a way,” A smile begins to creep its way into Rey’s features. 

“Are you a just a big fan of the show, then?” he asks with a derogatory lilt to his voice. 

Rey slowly shakes her head, “I couldn’t even tell you the difference between a Skywalker and an Organa, other than the number of letters,” This gets a chuckle out of Luke, “but I do enjoy watching the process. Of the show, I mean. I work at an agency.”

“Ah, you’re an agent. Surprised you’re not in LA.”

“Not an agent. Mailroom employee,” Rey embarrassingly admits. 

Luke grimaces and nods his head slowly, as if taking that information in, “Witty _and_ underpaid.”

Rey laughs loudly. 

Finn and Poe come out a random door before striding over to the two, “Hey again,” Finn smiles hesitantly. 

Rey smiles back before she notices Poe’s sour expression, “Everything alright?”

“No. Jeremy stormed out of here because he got a rather colorful call from Ben Solo at the airport. He was supposed to be picked up early this morning, but his flight kept getting delayed and the driver had the brilliant idea of just… not staying to pick him up. We asked him to uber, but apparently he ‘doesn’t know what the heck that is, and to just frigging pick him up for goodness sake, how flipping hard can it be.’ With more choice words, you can figure.” 

The four look at each other in silence, slight grimaces on Poe and Finn’s face. Leia and Amilyn have gone quiet and it is now obvious they have heard the current predicament. Leia’s eyes narrow before she looks at Amilyn, “I’m sorry to ask this, but is there any way your driver could go to JFK and pick up my son?” She asks kindly. 

Amilyn sighs, “I would if it were any day. I have a gala tonight where there’s a lot of money being donated in my name. I have to be there.”

Leia turns to Poe, “Poe?”

“Don’t have a license.” 

Leia turns to one of the gaffers, “Joe, could you pick up Ben? You can take the Lincoln.”

“Sorry, Ms. Organa, I’m slammed for the rest of the day, I’m already planning on working overtime.” 

Leia looks down, desperately thinking of someone who could drive him. 

Rey looks around with wide eyes and clears her throat, “Actually, I have a license. I could pick him up…” she trails off, not knowing if she’s overstepped. 

Her answer is clear when she sees the obvious hope on Leia’s face, “You would?”

“Yeah,” Rey clears her throat again, realizing who she’s talking to, “Yes. I can. If I can borrow a car…”

“No of course. Great. He’s at JFK in Terminal 2. Let me grab the keys.” 

Five minutes later, Rey is in the driver’s seat of a car worth more than three years’ rent. She is looking out the window while Finn and Poe smile at her from the outside, “You are an angel, Rey. Really,” Poe says with admiration pouring out of his eyes. 

“It’s just a pickup from the airport,” she says bashfully, not used to praise. 

Finn and Poe share a look before Poe leans closer to her, “Look, he shouldn’t say a word while you two are in the car, so you should be fine. But just in case, he’s, well, he’s-” Poe looks at Finn for the word, “a little tricky to deal with, as you can tell by Jeremy storming out. Try and stay quiet and you both will definitely get back here in one piece!” He says, patting the side of the car and stepping back. 

Rey nods, “I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” she answers reassuringly. 

Finn and Poe share another look, “Okay… still, I wish you good luck!” Poe exclaims as he waves. Rey puts the car in drive and peels out from the side of the street, with no idea what she just got herself into. 

 

The car ride to JFK is as peaceful as it can be, and Rey finds herself thankful that she doesn’t rear-end anyone by accident. Her hands are slightly jittery on the wheel, suddenly nervous to be in an enclosed space with a semi-famous man who managed to make someone quit his job through a telephone call. 

She pulls up to Terminal 2 and scans the crowd. There are numerous families huddling into cars, businessmen in suits catching taxis, moms with fussy toddlers stuck in strollers. Then she spots him. The guy is 6’2” at least, slightly looming, and running a hand through a fantastic head of jet-black hair. That’s when she remembers him.

When she was little, Rey remembered getting her hands on a j-14 magazine after some kid left it in the school cafeteria- the one with all of the pictures of young celebrities littered on the cover. Ben Solo was the main focus of the issue, his face plastered in the middle. Rey was only eleven and knew nothing of all the Skywalker drama, of course, but she remembered being completely smitten with the teenaged boy with the big ears and the gorgeous dark hair. She remembered tracing every aspect of his face, committing every freckle, every mole, the curve of his lips, to memory. 

Sometimes, when a foster family wasn’t too welcoming, or she was stuck feeling so alone the emotion practically choked her, she would pull out the magazine. She would read the interview Ben gave and would admire his picture. By the time she was 13, her fantasies of her estranged parents finding her and bringing her to her real home had practically dissipated. Instead, Rey would imagine Ben coming to her door with a smile, whisking her away to get ice cream and go to the movies. She had kept that magazine when jumping from home to home until she was sixteen- before some tormenting foster sibling ripped up her “baby book” just to spite her. 

Rey recalls that day vividly. She got a good couple of punches in on the boy before running away to some hiding spot she had created for herself at that specific home. Once no one was chasing her, she had wrapped her arms around her knees and set her chin down on her kneecaps. She did her best not to cry, but her eyes still managed to get misty that day. 

After that she rarely thought about Ben ever. Now, she was just putting the pieces together. Solo was a different last name than Skywalker and Organa, and she never did keep up with the show, so it was easy to miss. Her eyes widen,

_She is driving her schoolgirl crush to his own townhouse._

That fact sinks in and Rey feels like a little middle schooler all over again. Her hands stop shaking and begin to get clammy instead. _No no_ , she told herself, _stay professional. Don’t get weird_. It’s been a good six years since she even thought about the guy. 

When she pulls up, he slowly approaches and comically leans over to stick his face in the rolled down window on the passenger side. He just stares at her. Rey gives him a small smile, “Ben Solo? I’m here to pick you up.” 

He nods, but otherwise shows no reaction to her warm greeting, and somehow manages to situate his long legs into the passenger seat. He gets his phone out and gives her another glance, “Didn’t know our chauffeur company changed the dress code.” he says dryly, looking out the window.

Rey pulls out of the airport terminals and makes her way back to the highway. She lightly laughs at his comment, thinking he’s joking around. Then she looks at him out of the corner of his eye, brooding over his phone. She clears her throat, “Uh, no. I’m not a chauffeur. I work at the show. Well, I don’t actually work there, I was just there because of my friend, who isn’t actually my um, friend, but. Yeah. I have a license and offered to pick you up. From the airport,” she messily explains. During her ramble, he had slowly moved his head to watch her once again. Rey, now flushed, refuses to look back and keeps her eyes on the busy road. 

“How fascinating,” he responds while turning his head back to his phone, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rey’s jaw nearly drops at his audacity. In fact she’s so surprised by the response, she lets out a breathy laugh and shakes her head. 

_Never meet your heroes._

Ben immediately swivels around to see Rey laughing, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” she says, and lets it hang, because _come on_. 

He furrows his brows, “Did I say something?”

Rey scoffs, “I mean-!” She makes a few vague gestures above the wheel before giving up, “No, you didn’t, I’m sorry I said anything. Forget it,” she abruptly stops conversation, hoping the rest of the ride can go in annoyed silence. She needs time to process how one of the only bright spots of her childhood turned out to be a complete douche canoe in real life. Honestly, she thinks she’s never felt this cheated. And her employer was Unkar Plutt, for Christ’s sake!

Ben turns off his phone and sets it face down in his lap, looking up for some kind of answer and sighs, “Sorry. That was- rude, or whatever. I haven’t slept in forty-eight hours.”

“That’s not my fault,” Rey mumbles, not one to be walked all over. 

“I know,” Ben nearly snaps back, “I just- Jesus can you not take an apology?”

She raises her brows, “I’m not the issue here. I’m not the one making snide comments to a woman about her attire who is kind enough to drive me from the busiest airport in the world.”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t a snide comment-”

“Yeah? Well it sounded like you were insinuating-”

“Insinuating what?”

“Insinuating that I look- cheap, or something.” 

“I was not! My chauffeurs have always been wearing-”

“Oh ho ho, your chauffeurs, plural. What a hard life,” Rey snarks. 

“What, is this a class thing now?”

“No, it’s not a class thing! It’s you acting like a pompous arse to a complete stranger!” 

“Alright!” Ben finally yells, tired beyond belief, “Just- fuck, give me a break here.”

“I can’t believe I ever liked you,” Rey whispers to herself.

“You what?” 

“Nothing!” Rey yells back defensively. 

Ben puts his hands up in surrender, eventually dropping the tension from his shoulders and leaning to the side, his head lying against the window. 

Rey loosens her grip from the wheel- it had gradually tightened through their spat until her knuckles had gone white. The road had gradually cleared up until there was room to breathe between cars instead of bumper to bumper. There was probably 40 minutes to go until they reached the Skywalker house. 

She glances back over to Ben quickly only to see his eyes shut. She can finally get a good look at him without being nervous or pissed off. He really has grown into his looks, with a sharp jawline and a more worn-in face. There’s hints of dark circles under his eyes and he’s definitely donning a five o’clock shadow, but she still knows this face. She memorized it for years. The only difference being she’s close enough to touch him now. The longer she watches him from the corner of her eye while she drives, the more appealing that idea seems. She doesn’t even realize her right hand has left the wheel and began inching towards the man sitting next to her until she hears a growl. 

She snaps her hand back the same time he jolts awake and holds his stomach with one hand. She feigns looking out the window on her side of the car as she tries to hide her widened eyes. 

_What in the ever-loving fuck compelled me to do that?_

She forces her face back into a neutral expression before looking back at the road. Ben seems to be flushed in embarrassment. The growl was his stomach- the Prince was probably too noble to stoop down to the peasant food they serve in first class. 

Five minutes of awkward silence go by. 

Estimated time of arrival: 30 more minutes. 

The growling happens once more, and Ben seems to clench his stomach to try and stop it. Rey noticed the trick from her childhood when her foster parents didn’t feed her as punishment for not getting chores done on time. 

With a pang of misplaced sympathy, Rey rolls her eyes before digging one-handed through her purse. She pulls out her last granola bar and throws it in his lap, “I know it’s not mussels and caviar, but it’ll keep the hunger at bay,” she mutters. 

“Mussels and caviar sound like a horrible combination.”

“You know what I meant,” she bites back. Rey feels her hands tightening on the wheel once more. Lord Almighty, this man was going to give her an ulcer before they arrived back on set. 

“Right. Thank you,” He quietly offers, not in the mood for another fight with his strangely defiant and well-prepared driver. 

There’s only the sound of the road and a wrapper being torn open while Ben eats the granola bar. 

Then more silence. 

It’s painful for both parties, since neither have ever been good at confrontation. Ben decides to stick out his own olive branch against all his instincts to keep to himself in hopes of easing the horrid tension sitting in the car, “You have a British accent,” he announces. 

Rey looks at him with one brow raised before facing the road again, “Yes?”

“Why?”

“Um, I’m from there.” 

“When did you come here?” 

“Why does it matter?” She snaps. She blinks a few times, “Sorry, that was… harsh,” she sees he’s somewhat trying to kill the weird vibe in the atmosphere and she’s not helping by biting his head off. 

He nods, watching her for a second before going back to his granola, “so?” he asks around bites. 

“So what?”

“Did you move here when you were little or-”

“I was dropped off here when I was around four.”

 _Dropped off,_ Ben wonders. What a weird way to phrase something like that, “Ok.”

More silence. 

Rey soon finds herself lost in her own thoughts. And Ben finds he can’t stop looking at his driving companion. Her hair is in some style with three buns vertically aligned- he is reminded of his mother and all the elaborate ways she configured her hair. But the similarities between this girl and Leia Organa stop there. This girl’s jawline is much sharper, her skin more marked with sun-spots and freckles. She is tanner, too. Light brown flyaways have fallen down to frame her face softly, and her sharp nose gives her an air of royalty even whilst wearing street clothes. He doesn’t know what it is, but there is something practically radiating off of her, and he can’t help but be attracted to it. 

The last fifteen minutes are not nearly as painful as the first 45 were. Soon enough, she’s parallel parking in front of the townhouse and Poe and Finn are running up to the car. Ben is suddenly afraid that he may never see this girl again. Without thinking, he lightly grabs her wrist, “Wait,” 

Rey turns to look at him, and they both look at where his hand connects with her arm. She feels something, a jolt maybe, kind of like earlier when she nearly- no, she wouldn’t think about it. 

But at the same time, _did he feel it too?_

“I never caught your name.”

“It’s Rey,” she answers quietly. 

“Rey…I-”

“There you guys are! Back in one piece, I see! Wonderful. Ben Solo, it has been a hot minute!”

“A what?” Ben asks, reluctantly letting go of Rey when he sees Poe Dameron approach the driver’s side to let Rey out. Always the charmer. 

“A hot minute, it’s, it’s been a long time, Solo. Nevermind, grandpa. Let’s get you set up inside. Rey! Thanks a ton for picking him up. I hope Finn is treating you to a fantastic meal later tonight.” 

Ben watches Rey. _Finn?_ Must be the boyfriend. _Figures._

He takes a deep breath before clenching his duffel bag, getting out of the car, and stomping up to the house. He was about to heat up leftovers of whatever was in the fridge and sleep for fifteen hours. 

Of course, his plans are almost immediately blocked by his mother standing in the doorway. 

“Hello, Ben,” she says with a much-too-wise smirk.

“Afternoon, mother.” He says, keeping his head down in an attempt to squeeze past her. She puts a hand against the door frame. No escape. 

“That girl next to you on the news last night, is she real?”

“I would hardly call _Entertainment Now_ news.”

“Ben…”

“No, of course not. The photoshop isn’t that great.”

Leia snaps her fingers, “Darn. Well, a mother can always hope. One of these days, Ben, there’s going to be a real woman by your side.” 

“Sure, sure. Now can we please put a pause on the interrogation? I’m about to chew my left arm off.” 

“Not surprised. You’ve been perpetually hungry since you turned 12,” she lets go of the door frame and moves out of the way before tilting her head forward. 

Without needing to be prompted further, Ben kisses her forehead and makes a beeline for the kitchen. 

“Nice to see you too, Ben!” she shouts after him. Leia then turns her head to the girl getting out of the car, chatting amiably with the new writer and Poe. 

Leia sees something in her, and it’s not just her energy from not having been in this business for very long. “Rey,” she calls out calmly. The girl looks up and makes her way quickly to the doorstep. 

“Hi, Ms. Organa. Here are the keys,” Rey moves to hand them to her, but Leia cradles the hand with the keys in it in her own instead.

“Would you like to join me for afternoon tea?”

Rey’s eyes widen. She looks behind her to see Finn and Poe listening. When they spot the indecision on her face, they begin making frantic motions towards the house and mouthing ‘GO!’ Rey looks back, “Of course, I’d love to.” 

“Wonderful. And call me Leia. I want to introduce you to a friend of mine here,” Leia leads them inside, back to the ‘famed kitchen’ that is now clear of all lights and cameras. When Rey spots Ben hovering near the microwave, she feels a phantom tingle up her spine from whatever transpired in the car.

Ben looks up, and when he sees her with his mother, he promptly looks down, not ready for the much-too-intuitive Leia Organa to pick up on his attraction to Rey. 

“Sit here, I’ll just be a minute,” She sits her down at the breakfast nook and opens the french doors. She looks to the townhouse next door and puts a hand up to her mouth, “Maz!” 

Ben groans and Rey furrows a brow, “This day gets better and better,” he mutters. 

Rey moves her gaze to him, “What’s Maz?” 

“A tiny nightmare,” Ben says right before taking a hulking bite of mac n cheese. 

Rey leans over the table to better see out the window- she sees a tiny woman pop up over a row of sunflowers behind the neighboring fence.

“Oh hello, Leia! How are things?” Maz’s voice booms across the yard. 

“I’m doing just fine, Maz. But I wanted to invite you over for tea.”

“Sure, I’d love some! Be right over!”

Leia looks at Ben with light mirth in her eyes. His eyes widen, “No, no no no, I’m not here, mother, I swear-”

“Ben just got here too!”

“Oh how WONDERFUL!” Maz exclaims. 

“No!” Ben whispers lowly. 

Rey giggles, and seeing her face lit up like that, it’s probably worth the double interrogation he’s about to go through. His face softens, noticing she has one prominent dimple on her right cheek. He realizes a second too late that Rey had been looking at him too. She quickly looks away from his gaze. Was she admiring him? Did she feel whatever passed between them earlier too?

Leia and Maz walk back in and he quickly goes back to shoveling food down his throat, making sure to keep busy. 

The two older women walk in already speaking, “Maz, really, I’d love to get you the name of our gardener, he’s an artist with plants.”

Maz is a walking opposite of Leia- she carries her weight low in her legs, adding a certain swagger to her gait. She wears bottle-cap glasses that make her eyes bug out, and dirt-stained overalls above a long-sleeve orange shirt tucked into working boots. A sight to behold in the neighborhood. Suddenly, Rey doesn’t feel so out of place.

“Leia I don’t want a gardener. I like to do things myself. I’m an independent woman!”

“You can be an independent woman without hurting your knees.”

“I like the work, L. Keeps me busy during the day.”

“Of course. Because running a cantina every night isn’t enough hard work.”

“Oh, please! All I do is keep the customers paying, Chewie does all the heavy lifting. I’ve always been better with people anyway,” Maz adds with pride. 

“Exactly why I called you over. Maz, this is Rey. Rey, meet my neighbor and oldest friend, Maz.”

Rey stands up to shake her hand only to realize she towers over the woman. She couldn’t be more than 4 and a half feet tall! But not even that fact makes her all-knowing stare less intimidating. As Maz gives her hand a firm shake, Rey suddenly feels as if she’s unknowingly revealed a deep secret.

“Pleasure to meet you, Rey.”

“Likewise,” comes a cautious response. 

Maz holds her grip and looks into her eyes a moment longer before stepping back and sitting across the table from her. Leia and Rey follow. Ben quietly and painfully slowly begins to make his way out of the kitchen. 

“So tell me about yourself, Rey.”

Rey looks down at her hands, “There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid.” 

“Nonsense!” Maz exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “Everyone has a story to tell, including you, Benjamin, don’t think I forgot you,” she tuts, “come sit here with us.”

Ben’s shoulders drop and he tosses his head back, counting to three before slowly making his way to the remaining seat around the table, as if walking to his own hanging, “Hello, Maz.”

She manages to reach across the table and cradle one of his large hands in her two small ones, “Hello, Ben.” 

“He missed you,” Leia adds pointedly with a not-so-subtle kick at Ben under the table. 

“I- sure, yes. I did,” he mumbles back. 

Silence among the four sitting around each other- one nearly sprawled on the table holding on to another across the way who seems too big for the chair, a mother with knowing eyes, and Rey, who’s beginning to feel a bit like an imposter amongst the family. 

After Maz has stared into Ben’s soul for a significant amount of time, she lets him go and retreats back to her seat, “You’re so exhausted you’re not even squirming under my gaze. When you were little, Solo, you could hardly stand to be in the same room as me!” She laughed. 

Ben grimaced. 

“Oh, alright. Go upstairs. Get some rest, child. That god-awful Snoke is running you into the ground, it looks like.”

He snaps his head up in a glare, all traces of lazy fatigue and ease gone, “Don’t.” The room goes tense, Rey’s eyes widen at his change in attitude- as sudden as the flick of a light switch. Maz stays unaffected while Leia’s eyes flicker into an unreadable emotion. Ben moves his gaze to his mother, “I only have one condition for these monthly visits.”

Leia exhales, “Yes, I know. You can go, Ben, it’s fine. Get some rest.”

He loudly pushes up from his seat and stalks out of the room, going up the stairs. Rey watches him turn the corner, but not before catching his eye just before he leaves. 

Leia’s voice pulls her back to the conversation, “Apologies for that, you two,” she points her gaze to Maz, “he’s gotten worse.”

Maz waves her away, “He’ll be back to normal by the time he leaves again, I’m sure. He always is.”

Leia shakes her head, keeping her head down, “I just don’t know how long I can keep forcing him here every month. He’s becoming a workaholic- he won’t even take these weekends off anymore. Did you see the circles under his eyes?” 

“He’s a young man, he should be working hard. He’ll ease up soon enough. Pushing thirty, and all,” Maz sits up in her seat once again and turns her attention back to Rey, “So let’s get back to learning about this beautiful girl in front of us, instead. What do you do, Miss Rey?”

Rey clears her throat, nervous for the attention to be back on her once again. This suddenly feels like an interview, “I just graduated college. I’m in the mailroom of Jakku Agencies.”

Leia makes a face but Maz just nods, “Good. Have you lived here in New York long?”

“Oh, no. I grew up in Arizona.” 

“I’m assuming the accent is from parents?”

Rey looks down, “No, I was born in England.”

Maz narrows her eyes with a smile, not backing down from the short, vague answers Rey gives, “Hmm. And how’d you end up in this big house?”

Rey’s shoulders relax- talking about her shady past was pretty much always the last thing she wanted to talk about, “Finn, the new writer,” she directs to Leia who nods with a grin, “he ran me over with his bike trying to get here while I was walking home from work, and offered me a free meal in apology after he’s finished here.” 

Leia’s brow furrows in concern, “And you’re alright? No injuries?”

Rey internally melts at the worry on Leia’s face. It’s been so long since someone has shown her any sort of care, and from a _celebrity_ , no less, “Yes, I’m perfectly fine. Just some scratched up hands. I’ve gotten paper cuts that were worse,” she responds, chagrined. 

At this new development, Maz’s eyes widen in delight at Leia, and she smiles in return. The silent conversation taking place in front of Rey makes her nervous, “It’s like fate,” Maz says cryptically. 

Rey nervously laughs, “Yes, I guess. Unexpected, for sure.” 

Leia turns to look at Rey head-on and leans in, “Rey, are you happy? With your job and everything, I mean.”

The young woman is thrown off by the question. Is she _what_? What does that have to do with anything? “I’m- yes? I am. I mean, no, I don’t want to be stuck in Jakku for the rest of my life, but everyone starts somewhere, I guess.”

“Because, well, I understand this isn’t the most conventional ways of doing things, but I see something in you. I invited Maz here because she’s amazing at reading people.” 

_What? What was happening? Was this how rich people really went about their daily lives? Bringing neighbors over to read strangers’ auras, or whatever?_ Rey’s thoughts were racing, “Okay…”

“I don’t know. Just seeing you today with Luke, and with Finn and Poe, I feel like I’m looking at the last piece of some puzzle with you. To be frank, I wouldn’t be doing this if Jeremy hadn’t just stormed out and emailed me his resignation a few minutes ago,” Rey’s brows raise, “Oh, to hell with it. Rey- what’s your last name?”

“It’s Niima.”

“Rey Niima, how would you like to be a line producer for our show?”

Maz smiles and quietly claps her hands together, obviously liking the idea. Rey’s eyes widen and her mouth forms an “o”. 

“You’re offering me a job?”

“Yes. Usually, there’s more that goes into this process but…”

“Right. But, my job...” 

“Screw Jakku!” Maz pipes in, “You’re cut from the same cloth here, Miss Rey, not to mention the pay would be astronomically better.”

Leia nods, “I understand I’m asking for a lot. But if you do decide to work for us, we’ll cover any student loans you may still have on top of your hourly pay.”

Rey’s heart flutters in hope. No student debt would mean less ramen on the weekends. “That would be,” she’s nearly in tears at this turn of luck, “I can’t begin to describe how much that would help me.” 

Leia reaches across the table and takes one of Rey’s hands, “We’d be happy to have you here, really. Take the job.”

Rey smiles. She doesn’t think she’s ever been this lucky in her entire life, “...Ok. Yes. I’ll work here. Do you need me to sign anything…?”

“Oh yeah. I’ll have plenty of paperwork for you. Go to Resistance Studios tomorrow at 0900 and we’ll set everything up. For now, why don’t you go grab that dinner with Finn and let yourself relax?” Leia grins at Rey once more with that motherly grin, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Rey.” 

“You too,” she replies in a daze. The grin on her face simply won’t leave, so she embraces it. They all stand up and make their way out to the front door, where Poe and Finn still stand chatting. Leia and Maz watch her go at the doorway, waving. 

She registers belatedly that they never did actually have any tea with their afternoon tea. 

“Hey Rey! What are you smiling like that for?” Finn asks good-naturedly. 

From upstairs, Ben has put away his belongings from his carry-on into their proper drawers. He’s wandering around the room shirtless with a pair of lounge pants on and his toothbrush in his mouth, letting his toes sink into the plush carpet when he hears squealing on the front lawn. He moves towards the window and sees Poe, the same guy he didn’t recognize from earlier, and Rey excitedly talking to each other. Something has happened, but he can’t make out the words. Poe makes his way into the house while the other two walk towards a car idling next to the road. The man puts a hand on Rey’s lower back, leading her, and Rey leans into the touch. Something in his chest skips while he gets a sinking feeling in his gut. 

He rolls his eyes, rinsing his mouth and turning the lights off in the bathroom and the bedroom. He crawls into bed, ready to forget the horrible transport to where he is now, and the random girl Rey who had managed to keep herself planted in a small part of his thoughts already. 

He dreams of space fights and intergalactic warfare. Of laser beams and colorful sabers. Of a familiar character clad in all black, and an unknown figure wearing all white. The figure smiles and giggles, and Ben’s subconscious is flooded with warmth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, ladies and gents!! It's definitely a reylo story. But personally if I just met a beefcake like Finn on the street and didn't have some emo prince soulmate on my mind already, I'd probably try and flirt his pants off (literally) too.


	3. A Good Old Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey had learned a few things that night- never try and sing Billy Joel on a hot stage after four shots of whiskey, cheesy bread and barbecue sauce were a fantastic combo, and Poe had a raging hard-on for Finn Trooper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn't it great to only be blocked on the chapter that you're supposed to release next? *cue eye roll* Anyway, thank you for waiting! Summer school just really drained me all May and I spent three weeks steadfastly ignoring this. 
> 
> I have a reylo sideblog on tumblr now and I changed my username on ao3, if you didn't notice- I am now reys-island!!!! Please go talk to me there- I love meeting everyone :)

2017

“Alright, and…. action,” Poe calls from his director’s chair. A man on staff comes out in front of the camera with a clapper and the boom mic gets in place. The “scene” starts. 

“I am in love with these shoes,” Leia says, a determined look on her face as she browses her laptop. She wears reading glasses, holds a mug of coffee in one hand, and sits with her legs tucked on the couch, high heels still on her feet. 

Amilyn doesn’t look up from her phone, perched on a loveseat perpendicular to where Leia is sitting, “I never buy shoes online. How can you know if the size is right?”

“You can just return it.”

“I guess. It just seems like a hassle,”

Leia looks up with a smirk, “Don’t you have a personal stylist anyway, Ames?”

Amilyn smiles and lifts her eyes from the device in her hands, “Oh my God, you have one too, Leia. Do not play that with me,”

Maz walks in from the kitchen, half a scone in her hand, the other half presumably in her mouth, considering how big her bites are, “Good morning,” she says around bites. 

“Morning!” The other two chime. 

“Did I hear Luke started writing again? Every time I peek out my window, I see him hunched over that ancient computer in his office,” Maz asks as she plants herself on the edge of the coffee table, legs spread out. 

Leia shakes her head, going back to her laptop, “I don’t know what he’s doing, honestly. Ever since he came back from Ireland he’s been ‘struck’ by inspiration, it seems.”

“That sounds like a good thing!”

“It’s great until you recall how he never went to Ireland, but rather Seattle on a measly one-week vacation, then came right back and hid from cameras for a couple of seasons-”

“CUT.” Poe screams on the screen. Someone pauses the computer. Amilyn, Maz, and Leia’s face all pause in an establishing shot of the living room they all lounge in. 

The real-life Poe, the one standing in the cramped, dark editing room with two other women in front of the computers, rolls his eyes, “I swear, that entire family does us no favors.”

“That’s an easy edit. We have a lot of extra footage of Leia smiling earlier in the scene. We’ll cut that in and put the audio over Maz’s face…” The woman on the right begins clicking and dragging visual and audio around on the software, before stating “done” about a minute later. 

On the screen, Maz leans forward in her chair, “That sounds like a good thing!” 

Before the camera can move from her face, Leia’s voice says “It’s great,” the rest of her ranting abruptly cut off. 

The next shot is of Leia smiling in what looks like the direction Maz is sitting. The screen pauses once again. 

“Perfect. Thank you Paige,” Poe smiles and affectionately squeezes her shoulder. 

A polite knock on the door precedes Rey entering the already-cramped room. Fluorescent light spills in behind her, and she quickly maneuvers her way in and shuts the door. “Hi!” She greets breathlessly, tablet in hand.

“Hey, Rey. Sorry to drag you here on short notice. We needed some input from someone who knows the plotlines for next season. This is Paige and Rose, they’re our new editors.”

“Pleasure,” Rey says before sticking her hand out. The two ladies shake her hand with a smile; Paige confidently grinning while Rose looks slightly nervous, “I’m glad I no longer have to say I’m the ‘new girl.’” 

“Don’t worry- You’ll always be the adorable stray Finn brought in a mere year ago-” 

Rey slaps his arm, and Poe laughs while faking hurt, “Anyway,” she turns her attention to the device in her hands and begins scrolling through notes, “We don’t have anything set in stone, but there may be some tension between Leia and Amilyn, or Maz and Amilyn, we’re not sure. Nothing severe, but maybe if you could get her glaring at one of them, that would be helpful. Hmm, then there may be something with Luke’s writing, if he’s done with it by then- have you shown any tension with him being holed up in his office all damn day? Because that’s actually real and easy to shoot,” Rey finished, internally scoffing at how many times he nearly made the crew go into overtime simply because his lunch break had to be longer since he hit a ‘bout of inspiration’ for his new screenplay. It was all quite stressful. Rey seriously pondered why the studios still allowed for the dysfunctional family to have a reality show- it seemed like they would all be much more content being left alone for once. 

“We’ve gotten some of it covered. Half the scenes get ruined when Leia says something snarky about the whole Ireland thing, but it’s mostly manageable,” Paige chimes in. Poe silently nods in agreement. 

“That’s all we can ask for. Is that all you need? I need to race home and put on something nice. Leia wants to meet with me about-”

“Why don’t you just go straight there?” Poe cuts in, “She loves you, like, more than me.” 

Rey winks, “I always look nice for meetings.” She turns around and opens the door once again, “Say hello to BB for me,” she throws out.

“He’ll be glad to hear from you,” Poe throws over his shoulder. Rey is closing the door with a grin when he turns back around, “Wait up! Finn wanted me to ask you next time I saw you- we’re having the crew party at your guys’ place this weekend, cool?”

Rey frowns, “That doesn’t really sound like a question.”

Poe grimaces, “I might have… told everybody that it was at your place? Before I confirmed with either of you?” His voice gets higher and higher, “Because you guys live closest to the studio? And my place isn’t completely remodeled yet so it’s all-”

Rey groans and throws her head back, “Yes ok, fine. But the next time I call in a favor, remember this.” 

Poe quickly pumps his fist in the air and lets out a quiet whoop, much to the annoyance of the editors trying their best to work in a quiet environment, “Sweet! I’ll bring snacks.” 

“You better be. However, I’m guessing the only snack you’ll be eyeing is Finn,” Rey waggles her eyebrows suggestively, slowly closing the door once again. 

“You’re such a pervert, Rey,” Poe shakes his head, then right before she can close the door all the way, he can’t help but add in, “I’ll hopefully be doing a lot more than looking this weekend.”

Rey laughs quietly in the hallway- about three months ago in the midst of a drunken karaoke night, Poe had revealed that he thought her roommate and current writer of _Sincerely, Skywalker_ had the finest ass he’d ever laid eyes on when said man was busy buying another round at the bar. Rey had learned a few things that night- never try and sing Billy Joel on a hot stage after four shots of whiskey, cheesy bread and barbecue sauce were a fantastic combo, and Poe had a raging hard-on for Finn Trooper. While they hadn’t yet officially done the deed, there was always a definite tension between the two that made Rey blush. 

Yes, the whirlwind romance of Finn and Rey lasted all about two hours at dinner- once there, they hit it off immediately in such a way that when they raced to Finn’s place, they found themselves at a loss of what to do. Both were assuming the platonic chemistry they had would easily equate to ripping off each other’s clothes and having their dirty way with one another in the bedroom. The reality ended up them sharing a bottle of wine, turning on the television, and binge-watching _Stranger Things_. Too enthralled with the plot and much too scared (and drunk) to go home after seeing all the terrors of the Upside Down, Rey stayed the night on the couch while Finn respectively took his own bed. 

After two months and endless nights ending up that same way, Finn admitted that the only way he was affording his comfortable one-bedroom in Manhattan was living off of a trust-fund that was quickly depleting. Becoming roommates was the obvious solution- Rey would pay a third of the rent and replace the leather couch with a pullout to use as a bed. She lived closer to her work at a cheaper price, Finn was a great roommate, and she still managed to have privacy considering Finn was usually holed up in his room writing. Most of the time she was busy at work anyway. 

Frankly, Rey was doing great. She finally had friends to hang out with on a regular basis, she was getting paid more than double what she did at Jakku Agencies, and she was free of debt. She probably slept about as little as she did before, but it was no longer because of hunger pangs or out of sheer boredom. Producing was hard- like, a real pain in the ass. It was confirming catering services, running errands for fussy Skywalkers, running back and forth between cast and crew to communicate anything happening with lights and sound, and boy, if anything COULD go wrong, it WOULD go wrong. Rey was basically married to her tablet, the way it was cradled in the crook of her left arm all day. But it was rewarding, and there were worse jobs in the world. She loved the challenge of the chaos she approached every day, and she loved being the ‘fixer’ She has absolutely nothing to complain about. 

 

+

She’s knocking on the front door within thirty minutes after stopping by the flat and primping herself, already too busy checking emails on her tablet to pay much attention to who is opening the door. It’s not until a significantly larger shadow stands over her for her to realize Leia is not in front of her. She looks up to see Ben looming quietly. 

She swallows, “Afternoon.” She had almost forgotten it was the first Friday of the month- of course he would be there. The two had barely spoken three words in the year since the whole drive to the airport fiasco. Rey was good at her job and always confirmed towncars an hour prior for whatever family member was visiting; There would never be another incident like the one she endured again. 

“Hi,” he says with those big eyes. She’d looked into them for so long on a piece of paper as a kid; it always startled her to see how much more meaningful it was to look at the real deal. 

She swallowed, looking down, “I have a meeting with Leia,” 

He steps aside without a word and she walks past him, catching a hint of his cologne- something spicy and delicious that momentarily overtakes her senses. She forces herself to keep moving and continues on to one of the parlors near the back of the townhouse. She follows the sound of Leia coughing behind one of the doors. Rey frowns and knocks, “Everything alright, Leia?”

“Fine, fine, come in.” she calls back. Rey walks in to see Leia holding a tissue up to her mouth before finding a trash bin and throwing it away. They both make their way to the small table set up in front of them and sit down. Leia is wearing a kimono robe over what looks like silk pajamas, her hair in a low, neat bun, and no makeup on. She looks positively exhausted. “Sorry about that, I think stress might be catching up with me finally,” she smiles half-heartedly and brings a coffee mug up to her face with a shaky hand. 

“Leia, I would love to reschedule if today is not good for you. We need you well-rested for confessionals and…” she swallows, “well, I hate to see you feeling so poorly.” 

“Rey, you’re too sweet. I know you care, and I know it’s in the studio’s best interest if I don’t have to take a day off. I’ll be okay, promise,” Leia tries to smile, but it seems crooked, “The faster we get this done, the faster we can be on our way,” a hand discreetly covers the middle of her chest. 

Rey readies her tablet, trying to keep herself from worrying too much. 

“So we’re moving the outdoor scenes on Monday to Tuesday, it seems like it’s going to be raining all day, so we’ll try and reschedule the dress fittings for the benefit to Monday. If you call just ask for Tenny Djo- she owes me a favor. We’ll try and do confessionals on Monday too, so let Luke know he needs to shave that morning. And do it soon, you know how he gets irritated if-”

“-If he has to do it on short notice. Don’t worry- I won’t be making that mistake again,” Rey tilts her head to the left and shakes it slightly with wide eyes, as if reliving the trauma. She never, however, looks up from her tablet, fingers rapidly switching back and forth between an excel document to a group calendar.

“Yes, thank you. Okay, so that’s sorted out, we need all film from this coming week in the editing room by 5 Thursday, it’d be helpful to have a rough cut by Friday evening of the episode. Oh! And we pulled out of our sponsorship with Nike, so make sure we’re blurring any logos from here on out, and if you could slowly start gifting Luke, Amilyn, Artoo, and Ben Adidas merchandise from me, that would help lots.” 

Rey’s brows furrow, “... Ben too?” 

Leia nods and her eyes turn pensive, “I’ve got something up my sleeve for Season 16 and it requires bringing Ben back full-time.”

At this Rey looks up, trying to watch Leia’s face for any further answers.

Leia gives in, “Every time he comes back he gets worse and worse. That boy is going to have an ulcer before he’s forty, and it’s all because of that Snoke character he’s been working under for a decade now. I’m not going to die on bad terms with him, and if this weird isolation from his family continues, I think that’s where we’re headed.” 

Rey’s insides twist at hearing Leia talking about dying so soon. “Have you told him about this already?” 

“God, no,” Leia scoffs, “He won’t come back easy. I’ll need to be quick, catch him off guard, and bait him in the right direction. Which is something a mother should never say, but when you’re this far in…”

Rey nods, pretending to understand. In reality she never had any kind of parental figure that would ever care enough about her wellbeing. “Maybe we can-”

A knock on the door sounds before Ben peeks his head in and lets himself in, “Sorry, I just needed an atlas and I think there’s one in one of the drawers back here.” 

Leia narrows her eyes, “The hell do you need an atlas for?”

“For a script.”

“For the show?”

There’s a beat of silence before the rummaging continues, “No.”

Leia brightens up, “Are you writing again? Oh honey that’s great! You always were so creative-”

“Yeah yeah,” he throws behind his shoulder, still looking for the atlas almost feverishly.

Leia bats a hand near where he’s searching. Silence sits between the two women for a short second. “So, Rey, have any weekend plans?”

Rey catches on to the abrupt conversation drift and leans back in her chair, “Nothing much, Poe just dropped the bomb on me that Finn and I are hosting the annual crew party so I’ll probably be on a mad cleaning spree tonight.”

Leia nods in sympathy before lighting up. And then her face seems to- 

Oh no. No, no, no. 

Rey knows _that_ scheming look. 

“Honey, did you hear that?”

“Huh? Yeah, party. Nice,” Ben chips in distractedly. 

Leia scoffs, “Pay attention, Benjamin. Rey was just saying there’s a get-together at her place-” 

“- I swear to God, did we move the atlas? I bought one for Han’s 60th birthday? It was-”

Leia, under her breath, “-Calling his own father by his first name…” 

A pointed glare and a pause from Ben, “It was a huge book, mother, with nice binding and-”

“I don’t know, it was probably misplaced when Han moved out-”

“-and by misplaced you mean tossed out?”

Leia swivels in her chair and faces Ben head on, “Sweetheart, that’s not fair, there was a lot going on during that divorce-” 

He clears his throat and lowers his head, slipping his hands into his pockets, giving a slight nod in Rey’s direction. 

Right. She’s intruding again. Rey cringes, “I’ll make my way out, Leia feel free to email me about anything else you need.” Rey stands up and goes to the door. 

“Forget it,” Ben sighs, runs a hand through his hair, “I’ll use Google Earth,” 

The two find themselves both at the door at the same time, Ben’s long strides covering the distance faster than he anticipated. The parlor isn’t incredibly big, and Rey has her hand on the doorknob, and Ben has a hand up on the wall right next to her just to slow his momentum, and his face is right there, and whatever delicious cologne he sprayed on his neck that morning is just that much closer- and Rey’s boss- this man’s _mother_ \- is sitting just over there-

Rey snaps out of it and opens the door quickly to slip out as best she can, knowing Ben is right behind her. The unfortunate timing of their exits leave them walking the same direction at about the same pace. She doesn’t know what compels her to do it, but Rey finds herself slowing so they’re walking side-by-side up to the front of the house by the main staircase and front door. She sneaks a glance up at him. He doesn’t seem all that upset about the whole atlas thing, but she recognizes that faraway look of someone not being entirely present. His entire body seems to be buzzing with energy, a drive to be somewhere else, and Rey does not take it personally at all. She used to hit editor’s high all the time when she was making her shorts- one hour of cutting together clips and adding audio turns into two hours which turns into eight which turns into barely having enough time to put on deodorant before running to work after pulling an all-nighter. 

Hm. She kind of missed that. 

“So you’re writing…” she tries at breaking the slight tension in the air. 

It takes Ben half a second to realize she’s talking to him and he looks down at her, flustered, “Yeah, it’s like every time I get on that plane here, it finally flows. The words and the feelings I want to get across- it’s easy.”

Rey nods. She never has time for that kind of creative craze anymore. She almost craves the glazed look in his eyes, wants to plant herself in front of him and place her hands on each side of his head, make him give whatever inspirational spiral he’s falling down to her, curious if she would be able to taste it on his lips if she- 

No, no. Bad Rey. 

The two have slowed down until they’ve reached the looming foyer. Ben looks at her for only a brief second before nodding and turning to make his way upstairs. 

“Wait!” Rey calls out. 

Ben stops and turns around, blinking a few times to shake himself out of wherever his story is up in his head.

Rey remembers the party. Remembers Leia’s look. Leia wants Ben at this get-together, for some reason or another. It doesn’t hurt that the thought of Ben in her flat makes her squirm in a really good way-

“That crew party, that we were talking about. If you’re not busy this weekend, since you’re here and all,” Rey hugs the tablet closer to her chest, “It won’t be anything too flashy, it’s really quite low-key,” she mentally smacks her head. She already dug herself in this far, the poor man is waiting for her to just invite him to the damn thing, “consider stopping by, if you like.”

“Okay. Sure, I’ll consider it,” he replies softly. And he makes his way upstairs, and Rey turns to the door and shows herself out. 

And when she leaves the place with a small smile on her face, well. 

It’s a beautiful sunny day outside. She could be smiling for any number of reasons!

 

+

The party is what one might call “crowded.” The flat is 800 square feet at best, and with all of Rey’s little trinkets that she never seems to be able to part with (“But what if I NEED this screwdriver one day, Finn? It’s different than all of the other ones in my other screwdriver sets!”), and at worst, mostly confined to the 300 square feet that make up the living room and the kitchen. 

Because everyone gathers where the food is, and that’s the only place people will _ever_ gather. 

So there’s maybe 20 people mingling around, all almost exclusively the young and the childless on set, and the smell of booze and cigarette smoke permeates the air. Rey’s mad dash to clean every inch of the place between shifts at work and her atrocious sleeping schedule prior to the get together goes slightly unnoticed, and completely disregarded as some glasses tip just slightly too far over and spill on the tile. There’s lighthearted music playing, something very ‘indie pop’ with Poe Dameron written all over it, but it’s hardly audible over all the chatter. Rey sips at her very light beer and watches the action all around her. 

At the dinner table, Poe is sitting with Rose, Finn, and a couple of gaffers and audio guys. A cigarette hangs from two of his fingers near the ashtray and his other hand is busy making wild gestures. He seems to hit a punchline and the table guffaws in response. Finn is banging his hand against the table and Rose has her head thrown back. Poe looks satisfied as he sits back and takes another drag. Rey smiles. 

Oh, Poe. Always the powerhouse of the party. 

She turns to see another group at the kitchen island, gathered between the pretzels and charcuterie board that she insisted on buying because this was their first official get together in the house and she wanted it to be _nice._ She hasn’t really met all of the crew on set, but she recognizes Paige and a few others all quietly chatting about something or other. From what she can pick up, it sounds like the new guy on lighting got a gig for his band at a small bar in Washington Heights and the assistant cinematographer is working on a new bit for his stand-up routine. 

Rey can’t hear much of what is going on in the living room, but she definitely sees when the door cracks open and someone with dark hair peeks their head around. Ben enters the flat in a cautious manner, looking every bit like a deer walking into a lion’s den. He looks around, gives a very small wave to the crew members he makes eye contact with on the couch, then goes back to his perusal of all of Rey and Finn’s things. 

She can’t believe he showed up. Her brain almost short-circuits. She really had not planned on seeing him. After she left the Organa townhome, she realized he had only said he would consider the idea of going to her party. There was no done deal. Frankly, why would he want to hang out with her anyway? 

Her and all the crew, of course. Not just her. 

Rey takes pity on him when his hands shove themselves into his pockets and he slowly moves further into the room, still not talking to anybody. She makes her way over, grabbing an extra beer from the fridge when she passes it. 

“Ben,” she says as a way of greeting. He turns around quickly, his eyes alight in relief at knowing _some_ body, and-

Oh.

Rey really looks at Ben from this close- he obviously got ready to go out that night; his hair is parted to the left, and there’s a slight wave in his hair, as if grooved from fingers constantly running through it to keep it out of his face. His eyes are much clearer than when she saw them last, as well. Revived, even. He’s wearing a casual blazer with a dark tee underneath, and what must be tailored jeans, because they seem to hug his thighs just right, and she- 

And she abruptly stops her perusal of the son of her boss. Her eyes snap up back to his eyes and he seems to not have noticed her blatant staring, “Hey,” he breathes out, a smile pulling from the corners of his mouth.

Rey awkwardly smiles back, not really sure how to talk to Ben considering all of their encounters have either been in passing or yelling in a car. She holds out the beer instead, “Here, we need to catch you up with the rest of the party,” 

Ben takes the bottle at the neck, and as Rey reaches into her jeans pocket to grab the small bottle opener she had been passing around, he leans over, lines the edge of the bottle above the lip of the table, and pops the cap off with a quick tap of his hand against the top. Rey looks up to see him about to take a sip and she raises her brows in mild amusement, “Quite impressive,” 

He shrugs off the compliment before gently tapping his bottle against her half-empty one, “I feel like every time we speak to each other you have something for me to eat or drink on hand,” he takes a sip. 

“Don’t get used to it; I’m just a great hostess.” 

“You don’t have to dismiss the kindness you show to others.”

“Oh I know. I’m just letting you know my hospitality gene is running low.”

“It’s a good thing that’s not how genetics works, then.” He playfully jabbed, hiding a smirk by taking another sip of his beer. 

Rey narrows his eyes. Was he flirting with her, now? She feels flutters erupt in her stomach. “I can’t imagine you just came here because of my excellent guest etiquette,” she attempts, desperately wanting to play this game he seems to have started. 

“I figured Dameron would be here too,” he waves behind Rey’s shoulder, apparently making eye contact with the man in question, “Actually could we go somewhere a little quieter? I wanted to talk to you about something with a few less ears,” he says, noticing that everyone is subtly watching them converse from the corner of their eye. 

Rey gulps, “Sure, yeah, there’s a little patio over here,” they make their way over as she speaks. Opening the sliding door brings a welcome cool breeze into the apartment and Rey is glad for the reprieve. She never was good around large groups of people for long periods of time; even when those people were friends. 

She closes the door and props herself against the railing. The patio isn’t much, only fitting a small lounge chair and a few feet of standing space. Rey and Ben’s arms are practically brushing, they’re so close. They both look out at the view- no amazing skyline, but the streets a few floors below are lit up nicely and the nightlife is bustling. The music and bouts of laughter from inside are muffled, the sounds of New York now amplified- wheels on pavement, clicking heels, music loudly playing from restaurants, people talking, shouting, laughing. Rey sighs, content, nearly forgetting the reason she’s out here standing so close to a man she hardly knows. 

Ben glances at her, “I’m only here because I wanted to apologize, for yesterday. The whole barging in during the meeting. I don’t usually do that.” 

Rey looks at him, taking in his words. She's almost... let down? Which is crazy. Of course he just came to apologize. That's a fine reason to see someone, that's a great reason to see someone, “Oh, it’s fine, really. It’s your house.” 

He squints as he looks ahead, “It’s really not. I’m hardly ever there. You’re there more than I am.”

“That’s not true, I’m sure. Didn’t you grow up there?”

He snorts, “I lived in a version of it. That house has been remodeled and re-furnished so many times I hardly recognize my own room.”

The two are silent for a while, letting the non-silence of their setting settle around them. The moment is nice; there’s no stress in the air, no need to be somewhere else, neither of them are on the clock. It feels like living without thinking. Rey can feel it, that intense desire to prolong the moment, and fears that now that Ben has said his piece, he’ll leave her alone. She might have wanted that, craved it if she were standing with Finn or Poe, but she’s not. She’s with a near complete stranger that she’s known for years- and _that_ is truly something special. 

“Are you writing anything interesting?” She quietly asks. She’s not even looking for an answer, really, just talking to talk. He could stay quiet and she would be just as satisfied. 

Ben sips his beer, taking his time to answer. “I guess. I think so. It’s… different. It’s extremely sci-fi, and yet hard for me to define its genre. That doesn’t make sense, now that I say it out loud. Nevermind,” he covers up his embarrassment by taking another sip. 

Rey turns her body to him, surprised at his sudden shyness. A man who had been so ingrained into the industry, so aware of what it takes to be a success, and yet still so insecure. “No no, it makes sense. I’ve felt that in projects before.”

He turns to her, “yeah? Do you write?” There’s an eager hint to his voice, that intense need to share a commonality.

“Not very well. I like moving the camera a lot more,” she says, and plans to leave it there, but Ben has an expectant look on his face. _Go on._

“I guess I like the idea of a frame. How stuff just looks… different, when you can’t see the entire picture, when you’re forced to focus on one thing at one angle. It’s so simple. Yet it makes all the difference.” 

“Exactly,” Ben says. She feels him staring at her, but when she turns to meet his gaze head-on, her heart skips a beat. There’s a look in his eye that Rey can’t quite comprehend. It’s full of awe, and maybe a tinge of respect there, too. He looks at her as if she just plucked the sword in the stone without batting an eye. She remembers this feeling, it washes over her like walking into a cold room- that buzz she felt the first time she met Ben nearly a year ago in the car. An electric current that tingled right above her body that she couldn’t quite shake. Like a magnet, Rey is drawn just a little closer on the cramped patio, wanting to- she doesn’t know what she wants to do, but she assumes she’ll figure it out when she gets close enough-

A crash and an excited squeal sound from inside. Rey jumps back, slightly horrified and very embarrassed, her neck a little more flushed than before. 

Ben clears his throat slightly, “So have you been behind a camera recently?” 

“Yeah,” she nods, her voice wavering. She swallows, “Well, no. Work has kept me from doing much of anything else other than work, but I still have my stuff circulating around the internet. A few of them I’m pretty proud of. Or at least I was. I’m sure if I rewatched it now I would cringe.”

“I’m not the best to heed advice from, but you should try creating your own stuff again. It’s a nice reprieve from the world, speaking from experience.” 

Rey thinks about it, imagines herself not running around getting copies and grabbing the coffee. Imagines the tablet constantly in her hand is a camera instead. She smiles, “Maybe. It’s a nice thought.” 

The two sit in another comfortable silence, neither wanting to go back into the apartment just yet, even though Rey is far past being a little chilly. 

Lost in their own thoughts, Rey grins, “I kinda like acting, too.”

Ben looks at her with his own confused grin, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Rey scrunches her nose, “I like it. It’s just really intense pretending.” She shakes her head, laughing through her nose quietly, “What about you?”

“Do I like to act?” Ben sends her an _oh please_ expression before shaking his head, “Absolutely hate it.”

“But you grew up acting! Surely it holds some fond memories.”

“I grew up acting badly. Plus everything about it is horrible.” 

“Acting badly? I hardly believe that. Haven’t you watched yourself on the show?”

“I’ve only seen the pilot. I never watched another episode of _Sincerely, Skywalker_ again.” 

Rey’s eyes widen, “Never? There’s like, fifteen years of content there!”

“I lived it, that was enough. No need for me to rewatch family drama and see how comically big my ears are at the same time.”

At the confession of insecurity, Rey softens. She puts a hand on her arm to grab his attention now that he seems to be content burning a hole into the ground with his gaze. She squeezes, “I always thought your ears were rather cute.” 

Ben’s eyes seem to hold a little surprise in them and the corners of his mouth turn up into a small grin. 

“Hey, you two! Ben! It’s been fifteen minutes and you haven’t even properly said hello!” Poe rubs his arms together after promptly yanking the sliding doors open, “oo, a little chilly out here! Get back to the party, you weirdos.” The door slams shut again before either can properly respond to their slightly inebriated colleague. 

Rey taps her bottle against Ben’s once more before gulping the rest of it down in one go. “That’s our cue,” she tells him. Ben lets her open the door again, lightly guiding Rey from behind with a hand on her back. 

From the sidewalk across the street, a camera shutters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys this fic is so self-indulgent I love it. And a camera???!!?? Dun Dun Dun.


End file.
